


A Brief History of Planet Earth

by seethroughfantasia



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Personas (Persona Series), Depression, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Rated for hints of sex, Rise is mentioned ONCE in a brief line and I'm cackling at the backstory I made up for her, Ryotaro is soft, recovering, the fanfic i needed and nobody fucking wrote, these hands WILL work, they never touch/meet izanami so nothing supernatural happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seethroughfantasia/pseuds/seethroughfantasia
Summary: This is Adachi’s first time seeing Inaba from above – he missed their trip to see the fireworks too. Ryotaro looks at the landscape as if it’s his first time as well, and in way it is; the first in a long, long time. The lights glimmer under the snowflakes, the extreme cold doing nothing to keep them from enjoying the outside. Their shoulders touch.In the year of 2011, nothing happens in Inaba.
Relationships: Adachi Tohru/Dojima Ryotaro
Comments: 9
Kudos: 47





	A Brief History of Planet Earth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my heart after i finished the game](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+heart+after+i+finished+the+game).



> Seriously, guys? No happy universe Adajima fanfiction?

The arrival in Inaba is uneventful, the city looking like a tomb under dark skies. Adachi drags his luggage out of the train along with his feet and absentmindedly looks for the person they said would be waiting for him there. Nobody in the crowd stands out like the description, so he waddles toward a bench in order to make a call, but can’t find the strength to pull his cellphone out, plopping down the seat with a huff.

His shoulders hurt. He imagined he would be used to the pain after so many days living with it, but he was apparently wrong; not even painkillers help with the dull ache anymore.

He supposes, though, his fate could have been worse. Transferred to a small town because he couldn’t even get his own death right was as good as it could get. His cousin had done his best to keep Adachi from being fired, even if it meant sending him to this shit hole. Maybe it counted as “taking care of him”, but it still made Adachi’s stomach churn – he knew pity played a huge part in it, his employer wouldn’t want to carry the guilt of a dead man on his shoulders, even if he was beyond salvation anyway.

Keeping him far would calm everyone’s consciences down.

Few minutes have passed as he eyes the passersby and something catches his gaze. An older man, tall and gruff with a five o’clock shadow gracing his face and a cigarette dangling from his lips. He does look like he’s searching for someone and Adachi begrudgingly stands up, making his way over.

They acknowledge each other.

“You must be Tohru.” The man says as a greeting and offers his hand. “I’m Ryotaro Dojima.”

Adachi takes his hand and mumbles something back, following the man to the patrol car. The rain persists and there’s no conversation during the ride to the station, where he’ll sign some papers and then head to his new apartment. Ryotaro tries to make up for the silence talking about his old partner, who took the chance to go back to the city where his wife lives.

He comments a few things in response, but ultimately keeps his mouth shut, observing through the window the place where he’ll probably spend the rest of his miserable life. He hates the houses and the stores, hates the wet fields and the ugly landscapes. When Ryotaro drops him at home he says his thanks and heads inside, the cramped space making his head feel heavier.

He shoves his luggage somewhere and sits under the window, eventually falling asleep in the dark, empty room.

After a few months, he gets used to it. He doesn’t exactly know why, but Inaba is such a small town he feels less anxious when walking in the street and for once in his life doesn’t think everyone is out to get an eyeful of him. Of course, the dooming sensation comes back every once in a while, and then he oversleeps, but Dojima shows up at his door and coaxes him out and gives him a ride and that day he doesn’t ask for coffee, instead brewing it himself and handing Adachi his mug when they get to the station.

For some reason, Ryotaro’s eyes don’t show pity. For sure he knows the reason Adachi was transferred, but it doesn’t feel like he’s a burden who needs to be watched or else he’ll… Cut his wrists again or whatever. Adachi is thankful when he only has desk work that day.

At night, Ryotaro tells him they’ll be having dinner at his place. Adachi wants to say no and go back to his dark apartment and forfeit food until he feels something, anything, but the older man looks at him like it’s an order and he’s more uncertain about saying no than about going.

He goes.

Ryotaro’s famous daughter is there and she greets him warmly, excited to have someone over in what seems like years. He sits down, his entire body feeling numb as he watches Nanako help her father to open the food boxes, putting them on the table. Adachi feels useless and stands up to fetch some bottled tea from the fridge before Ryotaro can call him out on it.

They eat and talk in an energetic display that surprises Adachi, with Nanako commenting every bit on the TV show she’s watching. He finds himself laughing for the first time in aeons and it isn’t out of nervousness. If Dojima notices, he keeps quiet.

When he’s preparing to leave, Dojima meets him at the porch.

“You need to eat better.” He scolds. “Instant ramen everyday isn’t enough.”

Adachi hums and doesn’t tell him he’s barely making it with rent and the string of meds that take half his paycheck every month, but Ryotaro seems satisfied. If he invites Adachi over at least once a week it’s because Nanako’s suddenly cooking for more than two people.

That night he sleeps with a full belly, the lack of nausea as more of an alien feeling than proper relief. The apartment is cold and he has no heating, but the thick covers, for once, do their job. He doesn’t dream.

A certain morning Ryotaro looks jittery behind his desk and almost pushes his coffee over the edge before Adachi asks him what’s wrong.

“My nephew is coming to live with me for some time.” He says, typing something into the computer. “I haven’t seen the kid in years.”

Adachi tilts his head, absorbing Ryotaro’s anxiety. A nephew? Not that Adachi even has a place in the Dojima residence at all, but suddenly he sees the Dojimas eating with a faceless boy in the spot where Adachi uses to sit and understands that he’s not family, after all. He might visit sometimes and Ryotaro might take care of him, but that’s only because he _has_ to. Adachi is his responsibility. If he ends up dead it’ll be Ryotaro’s fault.

He swallows, looking for the right words, but the other man beats him to it.

“He’ll be here tomorrow in the evening. I think I’ll pick some vegetables to make sukiyaki. You should join us; it’ll be good for you.”

Adachi swallows again. He did promise he was going to try and eat better stuff, though he hasn’t been adamant about following his own words. He supposes the sukiyaki will be the healthy quota of his week, even though his body screams against the treat. Why should he eat something warm and good? He hasn’t done anything to deserve it. It’s been more than a few months and he has yet to gather strength to cook himself something better than instant ramen or even the withered cabbages he forces himself to buy.

He doesn’t say anything, but the next day he accepts the ride Dojima offers and they’re standing in the train station together in what seems like a ghost scene of his first day in Inaba, waiting for the approaching train.

“Aren’t you cold?” Ryotaro asks, hunched in his coat, hands in his pockets.

Adachi is, but he forgot his scarf at home. Ryotaro huffs without real fire and unfurls his own thick scarf, draping it all across Adachi’s shoulders and neck. It’s still warm from where it sat on Ryotaro and it carries a faint smell of nicotine and cheap perfume. Adachi feels mortified, but all he manages do to is mutter a small _thank you_ and pull the tips of the cloth closer to him.

He steals a glance at his partner, noticing he has a distant gaze towards the train, watching out for his visitor. Ryotaro looks just like he did months ago, cigarette between dry lips and stern expression, though this time he looks a little fancier with the coat and leather gloves. Adachi almost pretends they’re in the big city, waiting for their train so they can head somewhere together.

Suddenly the man is waving someone over and he takes a good look at the nephew. Yu is very tall, even a little taller than Dojima who already towers over Adachi. He has platinum hair and distant grey eyes that look too much like Dojima’s. They greet each other the way only a relative of Dojima would, with a silent glance and a hand shake.

“W… Welcome, Yu.” Adachi says with a grin and Yu nods, the memory of a smile on his own lips.

At home, they gather around the broken kotatsu and eat delicious sukiyaki, Nanako’s voice the loudest thing in the room as she inquires Yu about everything she can think of the big city. Adachi still sits in his old spot, just beside Ryotaro and across from Nanako, chiming in from time to time with his own answers. Ryotaro isn’t nervous anymore, he can tell – and neither is he.

One day, on a very slow morning, he’s sent to Junes with a list of things to buy for the station. Between grabbing the coffee and water bottles, he notices something in his way: a very old lady, as hunched as they come, looking at him with a delighted look in her face.

“Can I help you?” He says tentatively, wondering if she can even hear him.

“Are you Adachi?” She asks.

“Um… Yeah, that’s me.”

It’s enough for the lady to go on a rant about how she’s heard his name one day when he was patrolling with Ryotaro in the vicinity and how it’s the same name her son had and finally offers him some onigiri inside a basket.

His ear burns.

“I can’t accept this, Mrs. Emiyo!”

“Now… Don’t give me that. You should feed yourself.” And with that, she’s gone. How can an elderly woman move so fast? Adachi is still slack-jawed when he notices he needs to get back to the station and pays for the stuff in a hurry, straw basket still in his left hand.

When he arrives, Dojima asks what’s in the basket.

“An old lady gave it to me.” He says simply, because it’s the truth.

Dojima makes a face, that wasn’t an explanation at all.

“She said I have the same name her son has.”

“Oh.” Dojima muses, nodding to himself. “Emiyo Sano, right? Her son passed away years ago, I think he was sick. He looked a bit like you, too.”

Adachi feels disgusted, not only because looking like a dead man sounds despair-inducing to him, but because Emiyo has a disturbing reason to be following him around and that makes him feel especially anxious about wandering around the town, now. As if an old, hunched lady could do anything against him, but he can’t understand his own reasoning at times.

“I don’t want this. Do you?” He asks Dojima.

“You should eat it.” The man answers, an unknown feeling in his eyes. “She lives alone and hasn’t been around as much as she did when he was still alive. It might do some good if she knows you appreciate it. Plus, it’s healthy.”

Healthy this, healthy that… But Dojima has a point. And suddenly, from elderly stalker, Emiyo turns into lonely old lady. Adachi wants to say he doesn’t know how that feels (and why should he make an effort to care for someone? It’s not like this world has ever cared for him), but Dojima, then, stretches an arm and steals one of the onigiri, complimenting it on its taste.

It gives him courage to fetch a smaller one from the basket and take a bite. It’s really good.

Adachi doesn’t drink – it’s the only personal rule he follows. He still doesn’t sleep well and eats very little, but consuming alcohol is the only thing he’ll spare himself from. At least after that day. Dojima respects that and never forces him, but he does insist Adachi comes with the unit to the bar so they can celebrate another successful case – _“You can drink lemon soda!”_ , he says in a rare display of cheerfulness.

Everyone gets shitfaced like Adachi predicted and he already feels tired when he concludes Ryotaro has no condition of going home on his own. The older man grumbles in the passenger seat as Adachi takes control over his Land Rover, carefully parking it in the garage.

As they stumble inside, Yu comes downstairs and gives them a puzzled look.

“Oh, hello Yu.” Adachi greets, dragging a stubborn Dojima with him. “Help me take him upstairs?”

Yu looks like a berating parent, like he’s twenty tears older and has caught his teenager son drinking, but he helps nonetheless and Ryotaro plops down onto the bed without ceremony. Yu leaves before Tohru can ask him to take Ryotaro’s shoes off.

As he’s untying his own tie and getting ready to crash on the couch downstairs, something grabs his wrist. It’s Dojima’s hand.

“Sir? Do you need anything?”

“… With me.”

“What?” He inches closer so he can listen to the mumbling.

“Stay with me.” The man says, louder this time. He can hear it so clear he can’t pretend it was a mistake.

“S… Sir?” He wants to leave before anything can happen, but Ryotaro pulls him closer, not with enough force to make him feel trapped, but slowly coaxing him towards the bed. He looks half asleep anyway.

Tohru tries to get away and he realizes, as his wrist slips from the grip, that he can choose. The next tug is at his sleeve, Dojima’s almost limp fingers still pulling him over. He loosens his own tie and puts his shoes straight next to the door so he can hastily wear them when heading out tomorrow. It’s weird to lie in someone else’s bed, that hasn’t happened in almost a decade now, but for his own sake he keeps these memories far away.

Dojima instantly reaches over, grabs Adachi’s arm and begins snoring. He’s definitely trapped now, but the thought, as alarming as it sounds, makes him want to laugh. Dojima is warm against his shoulder and he looks almost innocent, but Adachi knows there’s no such a thing as innocence in this world anymore. He dreams he’s sleeping on a huge bed in the middle of the ocean.

The next morning, he awakes to empty sheets. Anxiety takes over, worries of Dojima thinking he slept there because he wanted. No that he _didn’t_ want it, but it wasn’t _his_ idea. He _tried_ to be reasonable, but the man simply wouldn’t listen to him (he tells himself). He looks for his tie, only to find it properly draped over his coat, hanging for a chair. When he’s dressed, it’s time to face his own misery.

Downstairs, the house is silent. They don’t have a shift Saturday morning, but Nanako and Yu have class. The smell of coffee inundates the place and it makes him feel just a little less shitty. By the counter, Ryotaro is holding the newspaper, checking it intently.

Adachi coughs to make himself known and they look at each other.

He’s ready to say his apologies when Dojima, once again, speaks up.

“I’m sorry for last night, Tohru.” He looks properly ashamed. “I’m… It wasn’t me place to ask you to stay, I’m sure you have your own things to worry about.”

Dojima remembering it is a miracle itself, but him saying sorry is a first. Adachi is completely unprepared for this outcome, so he laughs, the nape of his neck burning now that he’s in an unexpected position.

“That’s alright, Sir. I was afraid you wouldn’t remember that.” He says in a rare moment of speaking the truth. But he’s been exercising and he’s been getting good at it, too.

Ryotaro sighs and admits: “It felt different to let my guard down. I suppose it wouldn’t happen in front of anyone else.” 

Now Tohru’s definitely interested in what Dojima is saying. First, because the man never spoke of his own feelings earnestly like that – if ever. Adachi had tried to coax a few things about his late wife out of him when they met, but it was to no avail. It was only when they had to answer a call for a car accident with dead children that he crashed and let Adachi glimpse inside his fortress. But this was different. This was about Adachi.

Which takes him to the second point. _It wouldn’t happen in front of anyone else._ What exactly did that mean? They were always together and shared more time than anyone else in their daily lives, that was true, but was Ryotaro in the same emotional level he was?

He sits down in the table, still looking at his coworker, and receives a mug with the coffee the way he likes.

“I’m happy to know it wasn’t a drunken moment, then. It’s rare for you to make your feelings so clear.”

Dojima grunts.

“That’s what having teenagers around does to a person. Remember when you told me you were exercising the truth? Maybe that’s my own version of it.”

Adachi is completely caught in surprise by the admission and instead of resenting Yu for being the one responsible for Ryotaro’s lightness, he finds himself relieved they’re getting along well. He wonders what they could have possibly been talking about that made Ryotaro so determined. That morning, they climb together in the Rover and make idle chat while driving towards the station. If they’re both grinning for no reason all the time, neither comment on it.

One night they’re driving around Samegawa just before Christmas when Adachi asks Ryotaro to stop by the lookout. The night’s been slow and he figures nothing very important will happen near the holidays, so he decides to humor Adachi. They climb down and Adachi dodges big lumps of snows before approaching the rail, Inaba shining just below them.

“I finally get to see it,” He mutters, face half hidden by the scarf.

When Adachi got to Inaba a year and six months ago, it was close to Christmas. Everything about his old life was still burning under his skin, though, and he felt no desire to appreciate the universe. Dojima pried him out of his house during the celebrations and they ate together with Yu’s newest friends: Yosuke, Chie and Yukiko. Now, a year later, Yu’s band has doubled in its size with the addition of the fake-punk Kanji, successful youtuber Rise and yet another transfer student, Naoto. Plus, Yu’s staying for his third year.

This is Adachi’s first time seeing Inaba from above – he missed their trip to see the fireworks too. Ryotaro looks at the landscape as if it’s his first time as well, and in way it is; the first in a long, long time. The lights glimmer under the snowflakes, the extreme cold doing nothing to keep them from enjoying the outside. Their shoulders touch.

Ryotaro feels like an anchor and Adachi knows ( _now_ he knows) the man needs as much recover as he does. Months ago, they fought about Adachi’s helplessness under his gaze and Ryotaro insisted Adachi needed the help, that he was still _recovering_ and the words sliced through the arguments like it was an accusation. Tohru felt small. Like he would never be more than that in Ryotaro’s eyes – a depressed person, someone who might sneak away and kill himself when he’s not looking, forever a charity case.

_At least I’m not mulling over someone who’s already dead,_ he said and that evoked the ugliest feelings he had inside, egotistical whims he had promised to his therapist (the one he was forced to see if he wanted his life back) that he would fight – but now he had lost. All Dojima wanted was to help and he spat in his face. Instead of lashing out, however, he sobbed like a dying animal, tears staining Adachi’s shirt where he buried his face.

All Adachi could do was to repeat _I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ like a mantra over their heads.

He had been working on his own traumas, but Ryotaro hadn’t. He probably didn’t even know that needed being worked on before knowing Adachi and learning what depression was and how it could be dealt with. He supposed after a year he could begin to form inside himself the idea of being, for a change, Ryotaro’s anchor.

Slowly.

He’s looking at the lights, pretending Ryotaro’s gaze isn’t burning a hole in his skull.

“What is it?” He asks, eyebrows hunched.

“Aren’t you cold?” The usual question comes out, but this time he isn’t. He even brought the gloves Kanji knitted for him.

Maybe it’s the cold after all, but Adachi’s mind feel as numb as his face does. Standing like this next to his superior does nothing to his anxiety or shame, almost like it’s usual. Ryotaro keeps looking at him – it would be impossible for him not to since they’re so close now. It feels like an otherworldly experience.

He feels Ryotaro’s unkept beard against his cheek and smells the lotion on his skin, the newest detail about Dojima that he doesn’t have the time to process before they’re kissing, already huddled together against the cold. Ryotaro’s arms are around him and he receives the invitation by making himself comfortable inside his coat, forming a hybrid with two heads lip locked.

Two days before the new year, Yu and his loyal followers take Nanako to eat out and (hopefully) spend the day skating. Adachi and Ryotaro don’t leave the bed, not for ulterior reasons, but because they don’t feel like dressing at all and it’s good to indulge in such a thing once in a while. He almost puts his socks on before Adachi says he can’t look at a naked man wearing only socks.

 _Don’t look at me, then,_ he said, before standing to grab another duvet.

Now they are plastered against each other, afraid to move and lose heat. He was a fool when he stated no one should touch the thermostat because it was already too warm last night.

“Ryotaro.” Adachi calls.

“What.”

“Please turn the heat up. You won’t die if you climb down some stairs.”

Dojima huffs, with a hundred reasons not to, but Tohru continues.

“I’ll make it worth your while if you do. I just can’t get it up like this.”

Ryotaro is out of the bed like a starving man.


End file.
